


Avoiding the Question

by Fifthnameattempt



Category: Naruto
Genre: Coming Out, Eventual Happy Endings, Getting Together, Hatake Kakashi deliberately being an asshole, Iruka Unofficially Adopts Naruto, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistaken intentions, Umino Iruka accidentally being an asshole, Without Naruto's Permission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fifthnameattempt/pseuds/Fifthnameattempt
Summary: "Did you and Iruka-sensei have a fight or somethin'?""...no."Kakashi is avoiding Iruka, but not for the reasons Iruka thinks. Then Naruto comes home and they have to deal with their ill-advised hookup like adults. For Naruto's sake.Now featuring: Iruka offering Naruto a home. Iruka intentionally coming out. And Kakashi being just the worst at making a straightforward proposal; yes, even after everything else.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 20
Kudos: 333





	1. Avoiding Embarrassment

“…and you’re coming, too, right, sensei?”

Kakashi pulls his gaze away from his book to view the expectant, upturned faces of his young teammates. He shuffles in place and asks, “…what was that Naruto?”

Sakura rolls her eyes, but her exasperation is tinged with fondness, every inch the Godaime’s protégé. Naruto splutters, expression scrunched with rage, “How come you never listen to anything we say, huh!? It’s rude, ya know!”

“A thousand apologies,” Kakashi drawls, holding up his book in a mockery of self-defense. “But it’s a compelling narrative,”

Naruto pulls a face – every inch Kushina’s son and isn’t that a kick in the teeth? – and mutters, “They _really_ aren’t.”

Kakashi’s about to defend his beloved novels when Sakura sighs and says, “Come _on_ , Naruto! Iruka-sensei is waiting for us and we’re late enough as it is. Are you coming with us to Ichiraku or not, Kakashi-sensei?”

“Oh,” Kakashi has years of experience appearing bored and listless in conversation and he needs all of it to say his next sentence without flushing, cringing, or obviously avoiding eye contact. “I’m not really in the mood for ramen.”

“Huh?” Naruto asks, pausing with one foot raised in the direction of his favorite ramen stand, and turns to scrunch his nose up at Kakashi. “Who’s ever not in the mood for ramen?” He puts a finger on his chin and levels Kakashi with a curious look for so long he’s worried this is about to be one of Naruto’s rare moments of total insight and prepares to bolt. “Did you and Iruka-sensei have a fight or somethin’?”

“...no.”

_Warm hands slide under the hem of his shirt. A warm mouth moves down his neck. A warm torso starts to pull away from his chest and Kakashi chases it with his whole body. Has he always felt this cold or is Iruka just unnaturally warm? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care, just keeps pulling off clothes so he can press more of himself against that perfect warmth._

“Nothing so dramatic.” Kakashi slips his hands, book and all, into his pockets, and shrugs. Sakura is watching him with suspicious eyes even when Naruto starts to move away, so he adds, “I had ramen yesterday. Tsunade-sama says I need to watch my sodium intake at my age.”

The evocation of her beloved shishou is enough to placate the girl for now and both his young teammates wish him well before hurrying off to make their appointment. Kakashi feels a little bad. If he’d known Iruka was waiting for them, he wouldn’t have dragged out training. Shaking the feeling off, Kakashi takes to the roofs to get home to his apartment and a solid meal of rice, veg, and a little boiled chicken.

If the beat of his heart sounds like _coward, coward, coward_ in his head? Well, he ignores that as easily as he’s ignored it for the last year.

“Thanks again for letting me crash here, Sensei!” Naruto tosses his sandals onto the shoe rack with so much enthusiasm one of them bounces out and lands back on the floor. He’s flopping onto the overstuffed couch in the middle of the living room and fiddling with the TV remote before Iruka is even in the door. “I’m supposed to stick around the village for some extra training with Kakashi-sensei and Yamato-san for a few days, so I’m sure I’ll find my own place again real soon.”

“Of course, you will.” Iruka nods gamely, placing the stray shoe back on the rack before removing his own. “But don’t rush into anything on my account. You’ll need to find a landlord who understands the life of a shinobi. You don’t want to come home after a long mission to find yourself evicted just because you weren’t around to pay the rent on the first of the month.”

Naruto lets out a noise of dismay and scratches the back of his head, “Oh, geez, I think finding an apartment’s going to be a lot harder than I thought.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Passing through the living room on the way to the kitchen, Iruka smiles and ruffles the boy’s hair briefly, “We’ll figure it out together.”

Naruto had been disappointed to learn his belongings had been placed in storage while he was away and the village-issued studio where he had lived much of his pre-genin life had been allocated to another orphan starting up in the academy just a few months ago. But he’d cheered up when he saw how much cup ramen Iruka kept stored in his cabinets. And Iruka was prepared to go into ramen-related debt if it kept Naruto around.

His third year of full-time teaching had come with a raise. It was nothing crazy, but it was enough to end the lease on his bachelor’s studio and rent a respectable one bedroom in a nicer part of town. A one bedroom, one bathroom with a den. A den that could be used as a study or a library or even a small guest room. Iruka had never bothered to put his desk in it.

He also never bothered to tell Naruto that when the housing shortage had come up in a general meeting, he was the one who mentioned Naruto’s unoccupied apartment to Tsunade. He hoped it didn’t come up any time soon. Call him selfish, but Naruto had been away for almost three years. After so much time apart, Iruka just wanted to know when he was coming and going from the village.

“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Iruka says as he sets water to boil in the kettle. “I’ve got a mountain of grading to do, so I’m going to disappear for the rest of the night.”

“Mm’kay, Sensei.” Naruto answers at half his usual volume. The television hasn’t flickered on yet. Iruka pauses the hunt for clean mugs to peer at the sliver of the boy’s head he can see from the kitchen. It’s distinctly down turned; a sure sign Naruto is thinking about something that troubles him. Usually Sasuke.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, almost unconsciously leaning towards the living room.

“Yeah. No. It’s just…” Naruto sits up a little straighter on the couch, giving Iruka a better view of his face. There is worry in his eyes, focused and dark. Iruka avoids watching too closely (and risking hovering) by turning back to the search for mugs. “Are you and Kakashi-sensei fighting?”

“Um, no?”

 _He’s never had a partner that can just_ pick him up _before. Like he weighs nothing. He’s definitely never had a partner that can carry him across the room, still kissing his mouth all the while. He had no idea it would be so fucking_ hot _._

“I don’t think so.” Iruka coughs a little, but otherwise manages to sound neutrally curious. Never, in the history of the universe, has Iruka put so much care and concern into measuring loose leaf tea. He draws out the task for as long as is required to get control over his raging blush. “We didn’t see each other much after you left town.”

Except for one drunken, angry, body-numbingly good hookup, but Iruka would not admit that to Naruto under pain of torture.

(Not _that_ drunk, his treacherous memory reminds him. He’d only split a bottle of horrendously sweet soju with Anko and Kakashi had been nursing a beer through a straw. It wasn’t even that angry, or they would have stopped after the first time…)

“Oh, okay.” Naruto shrugs and settles back against the couch. “That’s good, I guess.”

Iruka’s shaking off unwanted memories and grabbing the kettle when it starts to boil, so it takes a minute for him to cautiously ask, “Why did you think we were fighting?”

“It was nothin’, I guess.” Naruto shrugs again and Iruka can picture him fiddling with the buttons on the remote even though he can’t see him. “Me and Sakura invited Kakashi-sensei for ramen, but he made a weird excuse and left. He used to act bored or annoyed, but he always came with before… well, you know. I was worried that maybe you guys didn’t get along anymore.”

Iruka is good at reading between the lines of what his students want him to think and what they actually mean. His heart painfully constricts at the many implications in Naruto’s words. He’s worried not having Sasuke around means Kakashi is less invested in the team overall. Or that Kakashi only ever joined them because of Sasuke. He’s worried two of the few stable, adult figures in his life are fighting and he will have to make choices between them. He’s worried about all the things a kid separated from his parents too young worries about.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Iruka says, dropping a bright orange mug of steeping peppermint tea on the end table, just inside of Naruto’s reach. He smiles when Naruto’s gaze hesitantly lifts up and gives another ruffle for good measure. “Kakashi-san has been very busy since you went off to train. I’m sure he was just tired.”

Iruka dodges Naruto’s flailing retaliation at having his hair mussed and deftly keeps his own steaming gray mug out of reach. They’re both laughing when he pauses at the edge of the hallway and adds, “But I’ll talk to him just in case. If it’ll make you feel better.”

He catches the corner of Naruto’s smile before the boy can hide it in a pillow.

“Thanks, Sensei.” The sound is muffled by the pillow and the subsequent ‘goodnight’ is almost completely overwhelmed by the sound of the TV flickering on. It brings a quiet grin to Iruka’s face anyway.

“Good night, Naruto.” He says quietly before making his way down the short hallway. It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone around to wish goodnight. It feels nicer than he thought it would. For the first time since he moved in, the apartment feels like a home instead of a place to live.

When he reaches his bedroom door, Iruka pointedly does not think about being pressed against it or the bruise that lingered on his collar bone for a week after. He gets to work grading and promises himself that tomorrow is the day he stops being a coward. For Naruto’s sake.

Iruka’s class lets out and a beautiful, golden afternoon still stretches before them. One of the rare days when the air has cooled, but the sun doesn’t yet set too early. After he straightens his classroom and gathers his things, he walks out into an evening tinged green and orange by the fading sun. The leaves in Konoha never fully lose their color even in the dead of winter, but they do catch more and more of the sunset as the year stretches on.

Usually, Iruka would take the long route home and maybe see if Anko or Kotetsu were free to grab dinner on this kind of peaceful evening. Instead, he meanders to a space beneath a sturdy tree he knows has a good view into his classroom from the top branches, leans against the rough tree bark, and talks to the air without preamble.

“Naruto is under the impression we’re having a fight.” He tucks his hands into his pockets and hopes he is affecting something approaching nonchalance about the whole thing. “Are we?”

He pretends his heart doesn’t thud in his chest when there’s a brief rustle of leaves above his head. That’s as much warning as he gets before Kakashi is suddenly also leaning against the tree, just slightly to his left. Close enough that Iruka can feel warmth bleeding off of him. Far enough that they are not touching.

Anyone casually passing by would think they’re just two teachers sharing notes at the end of a long day.

“Maa, Sensei, I think that’s up to you.”

Iruka reigns in his annoyance, barely, by directing his negative energy into a rock that sits just to the right of his left toe. He glares at the rock when he says, as evenly as he can manage, “It takes two people to fight or to fuck so I’d say it’s up to both of us.”

Kakashi only lets small slivers of himself be exposed to the world, so he feels more than a little betrayed when a corner of one of those slivers heats bright pink and Iruka doesn’t miss the way he ducks his head. Iruka isn’t prone to swearing, but he does in the right company. Kakashi, however, has only heard him swear in one context. Privately, they both think he’s a bit of a pervert for his reaction.

Clearing his throat, Kakashi says, “I didn’t mean to worry Naruto. I’ll be more subtle in the future.”

Iruka huffs, kicking the offensive rock away. “I’m not asking you to – agh!”

Pushing off the tree, the teacher abandons the strategy of playing cool and collected. He is not cool. He has never been collected. He doesn’t know why he thought he could start now. Rounding on the jounin with one finger raised in accusation, he announces, “I am here to make amends, okay? I was way out of line that night. Rude and cruel and vindictive. I’m sorry. I was angry and I took it out on you and that doesn’t excuse it, but I apologize, alright? I’d appreciate it if you accept and we try to get along. For Naruto’s sake, if nothing else.”

The bar is dark; the music is loud but steady and not an impediment to conversation between close groups. The long, rounded booths preferred by most jounin were especially effective at keeping conversations contained. A moment ago, Iruka had been pressed between Anko and Asuma and half a dozen other shinobi. Now, he’s alone in the booth with just one other person because he’d foolishly refused to participate in a round of shots at the bar. Just his luck it was the one person he most wanted to avoid.

In two days, it will be a full year since Naruto left the village. Iruka had passed the other first anniversaries with relative grace. The Sandaime’s death. Sasuke’s defection. He’d kept his head down, focused on work, and refused to dwell on the maudlin. But he feels Naruto’s absence more keenly than the others because he’d felt responsible for Naruto. He’d felt kinship with Naruto that he hadn’t felt with anyone in a long time.

When the man who would still be training him if not for his own self-important delusions of grandeur has the audacity to sigh into his beer, Iruka downs the last of Anko’s soju for comfort before spitting, “What’s the matter Kakashi? Is it not _fun_ anymore?”

Kakashi’s good eye blinks slowly. Once. Then twice. The flush fades replaced with undisguised confusion. “You think I’ve been avoiding you because you were justifiably kind of mean to me one time a year and a half ago?”

Kakashi is tired of feeling pitied. More than anything he wants to be home, reading or desperately trying to read, in comfort. But he’s aware of how tenuous most of his current friendships are. Unfortunately, he is also aware that Gai had left standing orders among their jounin peers that Kakashi was not to be allowed to wallow this weekend even though Gai himself would be out of town on a mission. He didn’t know how to politely tell the group that had dragged him from his home to fuck off. So, he followed along with barhopping and kept avoiding various calls for "Shots!" like his life depended on it.

Which is how he ends up alone with one other person in the booth. That person says something, and it takes a long moment for Kakashi’s brain to register that he is being spoken to. And another to summon up the context for what those words mean. He glances up from his book and meets chocolate brown eyes that glare at him on the edge of disgust and killing intent.

A truly terrible plan forms in an instant. Asuma will be pissed, but that might actually buy him an additional day or two of solitude. Kakashi tucks his book out of sight and makes his move.

Iruka is thrown off by the question. He wracks his brain for what else might have been wrong about that night and absolutely can’t find anything, despite how often and how clearly his brain replayed the events that followed his insult whenever he tried to go to sleep. As a result, he stutters rather embarrassingly while trying to come up with a response. “I don’t- You were- well, why _else_ would you be avoiding me if you aren’t still mad?”

“Still?” Kakashi repeats, incredulous, “I was never mad. Sensei, I grabbed your dick in public because I thought you’d punch me in the face, and I’d get kicked out of the bar. I assumed you wouldn’t want to speak to me after everything else that happened.”

“You did WHAT!?” Iruka processes shock followed by confusion and then bone-deep embarrassment. Clutching his hair and pacing, he moans, “Oh my _god_. You thought I’d hit you and instead I let you fuck me against my bedroom door. _Shit_. I have to go missing-nin, right? I can never look you in the eyes again!”

“What did you _think_ I was doing?” Kakashi asks, caught between confusion and amusement at Iruka’s display of dismay.

“I don’t know!” Iruka throws his hands out to either side of him and decides any passersby can figure out for themselves what is going on between the Academy Sensei and the infamous Copy Nin. “We were both sad and angry about the same things. I assumed it was some kind of a hate sex thing!”

A silver eyebrow raises delicately – almost scandalously – and Iruka glares at it. “Don’t give me that! Fucking your feelings out is way more normal than assaulting someone to get out of a social engagement you can leave at any time!”

Put that way – and unwilling to explain his weird and intense friendship with Gai – Kakashi kind of had to concede that point. And he _had_ felt better after. Still not great, but the rush of endorphins at least seemed to remind his brain it was supposed be produce serotonin and he didn’t totally crash even on the anniversary of Naruto’s departure a few days later.

“Fair enough.” Kakashi shrugs, “So, where does that leave us? We’ve been avoiding each other for exactly no reason for a year and a half. So, cam we just stop whenever we want?”

“I guess.” Iruka deflates a little, sighing. “Will you come to ramen after training tomorrow?”

“I’d like that.” Kakashi smiles and means it. “But there is one more thing we should discuss…”

“What- _mmff!_ ”

Kakashi grabs him by edges of his flak vest, turning until their positions are reversed and his body presses him into the tree, faster than the teacher can muster a response. He keeps the mask on so he can’t kiss the other man exactly the way he wants to, but Iruka arches into his body and doesn’t pull away. He’s still warm, warm, _warm_ the way Kakashi remembers and it’s enough. Pulling away, Kakashi can feel a foreign breath against his face when he says, “Let me know next time you’re feeling sad and angry.”

Iruka decks him. Hard. Kakashi doesn’t even try to dodge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the extent of my original story, then I jotted down a short epilogue. Which inspired a slightly longer second epilogue. I'll post both once I decipher my own terrible handwriting.
> 
> Shout out to the tumblr user who said Jiraiya and Kakashi don't deserve to be called Naruto's father figures when Iruka canonically went into ramen-related debt for him. That post lives in my head rent free and if anyone has it saved, I will gladly link to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto's living situation becomes permanent only after it is destroyed. There is a lot of crying on all sides.

“They’re moving the teachers to temporary housing near the Academy, since classes are supposed to restart next week. We’ll be double bunked, but we’ll finally have access to an actual kitchen again.” Iruka sighs happily as he swallows around a mouth full of unsalted rice and beans cooked nearly to a char over an open fire. “That section should have gas and electricity back up by the end of the week. There’s even a rumor about the return of running water, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“That’s awesome! Captain Yamato hasn’t been building his houses all fancy the way he likes to save on chakra, but you’ll still like it, I’m sure!” Naruto pumps his fist in the air and beams, managing to put the sun to shame even surrounded by the debris of their home. The recovery from Pain’s attack was slow and exhausting, but there was an exhilaration underneath all of it that had a lot to do with the unbelievably low casualty count which meant it had everything to do with Naruto.

Iruka’s been teaching the Will of Fire for a long time now, but he’s never felt it so keenly as when he watches the village rally around its number one, knuckleheaded ninja.

They’ve both been busy and sleeping rough like most of the shinobi, but Iruka and Naruto try to share a meal at least once a day. And with most of the civilians now adequately sheltered and work underway to start restoring infrastructure, Iruka is feeling hopeful that they’ll be able to fall back into something approximating their old routines soon.

Naruto takes another bite of his own food, but his smile twists at the corner. His eyes dart away from Iruka when he adds, “Heh, it’s funny; I’ve been so busy out of the village I never managed to find my own place and now there’s no places left for me to go. Bet you’re glad to be rid of me, huh, Sensei?”

The question is a joke, or at least it’s intended to be one. But Naruto’s sharp elbow in his side is half-hearted and Iruka can see the tension in his whole body. Guilt creeps around Iruka’s heart. If he’d made their living situation official in the first place – had _asked_ Naruto if he wanted to move in instead of quietly manipulating him – he would never have had to worry about being kicked out in the first place.

“Naruto…” He pauses to swallow around a lump in his own throat. “You know I like having you around, right? You’re the big village hero now, so if you want to find your own space or even just stay with someone else, you won’t have any trouble. But when I said ‘we’ earlier, I didn’t mean me and the other teachers. I meant me and you. I should have asked first, but I already told the administration that you'd be staying with me. Because you're always welcome, you know? To stay with me, I mean. For as long as you want.”

Iruka takes a breath, braces himself for rejection. As far as he knows, Naruto had never actually _wanted_ to stay with him in the first place. As a shinobi he was legally old enough to live on his own even if he’d had a family to begin with. And Iruka wasn’t _that much_ older than him, it might seem weird. The Academy staff had just assumed Naruto would be coming with but people who didn’t know he’d already taken a fuma shuriken in the back for the boy might think it was weird or inappropriate. Did Naruto care about that?

All the tension bleeds out of his body when Iruka finally chances a glance to his side and meets wide, watery blue eyes. Naruto practically flinches away, pressing his face to his sleeve and quickly hiding his tears. Iruka finds himself doing the same.

“I guess that would be…” Naruto chokes around a sniffle, “…nice. To stick together, ya know? And it would just be a waste, me taking up a shelter all on my own when we get along so well, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Iruka nods vigorously, ignoring the waver in his own voice as bravely as he can. “I think that sounds really nice.”

“Okay. Cool, then.” Naruto shakes his head, but tears are still coming down his cheeks. “Just tell me where I’m supposed to show up, I guess.”

“I will.” Iruka swears. “There’s a meeting tonight. They’ll assign rooms. I’ll find you after.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.”

They eat quickly and silently after that. Neither one really tasting the food. The feeling of _home_ is one they’ve both associated with the village at large for so long, it’s overwhelming to attach that much significance to just one person, just one place. Iruka had forgotten what it felt like. Naruto had never known at all.

There’s still lots of work to be done, however, so they don’t linger long after they finish eating. Just long enough for Naruto to pull Iruka into a bone crushing hug and, the sound muffled by Iruka’s flak jacket, say, “I know I’m not always… but you’re always… Thank you, Sensei.”

“Of course, Naruto.” Iruka responds to the unvoiced sentiments by squeezing Naruto’s shoulders as tightly as he can. “I’m glad everybody else has finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Naruto asks, pulling away and no longer hiding his red rimmed eyes.

Iruka smiles. Ruffles his hair.

“That you’re a really easy kid to love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dadruka owns my entire heart.
> 
> Last line is blatantly stolen from Dimension 20 - Fantasy High. Shoutout to Jawbone, the werewolf drug dealer turned high school guidance counselor, and the father figure to which all other father figures should be held accountable. Remember, kids, don't be afraid to talk about your feelings!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaguely Post-Shippuden. Kakashi learns that Iruka keeps secrets of his own. Iruka finally comes clean to Naruto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very vague discussions of homophobia. Iruka experiences the world differently from Kakashi is the main point. Nothing graphic or intentionally triggering.

“Kakashi – _ah_ – you’re gonna be – _ngh_ – late!”

“I’m not scheduled to leave until nine.”

Iruka is briefly drawn in by the low rumble Kakashi’s chest makes when he talks, the way breath moves across his neck with each word. And then the words actually register.

“Kakashi!” He scolds, pushing him an arm’s length away and keeping him there with a firm hand to his flak vest. “It’s _ten fifteen_.”

The technically-on-duty jounin has the audacity to pout and try to press close again. “I’ll make up the time on the road.”

“You mean your team will make up the time on the road.” Iruka dodges to the left so the kiss intended for his mouth skids across his cheekbone and he slides farther back against the counter until his shoulder blades hit the cool tile of the wall, so Kakashi can’t try again without hopping up with him. “I have a desk shift with Genma next week. I don’t want to listen to him complain about your unnecessary pace setting for four hours.”

“Genma knows to leave without me.” Kakashi insists and starts to roll his weight forward onto his toes like he actually _is_ going to climb onto the counter to continue the chase.

Iruka locks his knees around the slender hips between them, keeping Kakashi in place. He puts on his best, most unimpressed face and asks, “You understand that is worse, right?”

About two hours ago, Iruka had wandered into the kitchen to make breakfast, still in his sleep pants and a light bathrobe. He’d gotten as far as putting the coffee on and laying out ingredients when Kakashi had persuaded him that there were better ways to pass the morning than _eating_. Iruka quite liked eating breakfast, but since he’d have all day to get back to it after Kakashi left for his shift, he’d let himself be persuaded fairly easily.

“Maa, sensei, it’s for a good cause.” Kakashi’s hands slide up the back of his knees, tantalizingly light, before gripping hard and pulling him closer. Iruka slides across the counter with a gasp, anchoring himself on Kakashi’s firm shoulders to keep from flailing. “I wouldn’t want to leave without fulfilling certain… promises…”

Kakashi’s breath is warm against his skin, their foreheads pressed together. Iruka knows he’s flushed and it’s not solely from embarrassment at being manhandled in his own kitchen. The argument is starting to become surprisingly compelling, and Iruka’s considering letting himself be persuaded a second time.

And then there’s a rattle of keys in the door.

Iruka stiffens, pulling back as far as Kakashi’s steel grip will allow.

“ _Shit_.” He curses. “Shit!”

“It’s jus’ Naruto.” Kakashi murmurs, his voice still low and tempting, arms moving up from the knees to circle Iruka’s waist. “Could be funny if we-”

“You need to _go_.” Iruka hisses, watching the door with something like blind panic surging through his heart. Naruto always gets his keys mixed up on the first try, but that doesn’t by them a _ton_ of time. His hand is back to Kakashi’s chest, pushing him away with more urgency. “I’m serious. Naruto can’t-”

He catches himself at the last second, but it’s not fast enough. He rips his gaze from the door just in time to see Kakashi’s soft, warm expression stiffen into smooth porcelain. Iruka’s heart skitters, torn between two, completely irreconcilable panics. Two concerns he usually considered entirely separate that were suddenly, terribly crashing together. He’s trying to work up a one-sentence explanation so Kakashi will leave for his mission to Wave without giving him this horrible, betrayed look and can’t.

“Apologies, Sensei.” Kakashi says, dropping his hands and stepping back so quickly Iruka slides off the counter with a thud. By the time he’s recovered his balance, Kakashi’s mask is in place and he has one foot out the window. The voice the jounin affects is cool and carefully calculated like everything else about him. “I obviously misunderstood the situation.”

Iruka reaches for him, tries to protest. But Kakashi’s gone and the door is flying open.

“I’m home early!” Naruto announces, dropping down to the low step and quickly pulling off his shoes. Iruka fixes his mussed hair in the reflective surface of the toaster and grabs his discarded bathrobe off the back of a chair. He doesn’t like relying on Naruto’s obliviousness – it feels like a betrayal of trust – but today he needs it. He needs a goddamn _second_ to figure out what things he needs to say to which person.

“Welcome home, Naruto.” Iruka remembers to echo back and Naruto keeps up a steady chatter as he gathers up his mission pack and returns his things to his room. Barely listening, Iruka braces himself against the counter and takes long, steady breaths until he can pick up a handful of discarded green onion without shaking.

Iruka’s fifth year of teaching brought another raise and choosing to live together meant Naruto paying his (significantly smaller) portion of the rent. With the village rebuilt and the war fading from fresh scar to recent memory, they’d found a nice two bedroom, two bath near the Academy and have been cohabitating more or less peacefully ever since. Whether they were roommates or brothers or too-young single father and too-competent son wasn’t a question they particularly bothered with these days. Naruto never broke the habit of calling him sensei and after a while, Iruka stopped reminding him.

And with Naruto out on missions often and those missions running smoother and more predictably now that there was tentative peace between the Great Nations, it hadn’t been hard to schedule most of his personal life around Naruto’s presence in the village. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Kakashi wasn’t doing same or at least had realized he was doing it on purpose. Between the two of them, Kakashi was supposed to be the genius.

But it didn’t take a genius to work out why Kakashi was hurt by it. Even an idiot like Iruka figured it out in less than a heartbeat, although only after the damage was done.

“And then Sai told this joke he got out of a book and it was the _dirtiest_ joke I’ve ever heard in my life and Sakura punched him so hard she had to reset his jaw. It was so funny!” Naruto’s unconscious ramble pauses as he steps into the kitchen. He’d changed into a clean, black shirt, scrubbed his face, and run a comb haphazardly over his hair; the usual morning-return routine when he was determined to stay up all day instead of making up for lost sleep.

His eyebrows raise as he sees the array of breakfast foods Iruka’s returned to preparing. “That’s a lot of food! I didn’t forget your birthday again, did I!?”

“You think I’d cook on my own birthday?” Iruka asks with a playful roll of his eyes, praying that’s as many questions as Naruto is going to ask. “Get real.”

“I dunno, you do weird stuff sometimes. Like putting hot sauce on your eggs.” Naruto steps into place beside him, beginning to crack and scramble eggs without being asked, even when Iruka swats his shoulder and insists for the one thousandth time that hot sauce on eggs is _good_ and Naruto would _know_ if he’d ever tried it.

They fall into an easy rhythm of bantering and cooking for just long enough to hope Naruto’s going to let it drop. Then the boy absently picks up the small eggplant he had been planning to sauté before getting waylaid, and says in a teasing voice. “I wasn’t due back until tomorrow so you couldn’t be making breakfast for _me_. Are you hiding a _special friend_ in your room, Iruka-sensei?”

Naruto elbows him and offers up an exaggerated eyebrow waggle, clearly joking. Iruka laughs, an equally exaggerated sound, and pushes him away playfully, praying the boy doesn’t notice the high flush on his cheeks. Naruto wouldn’t notice an innuendo if it walked up and introduced itself, so holding an eggplant while asking that particular question _must_ have been unintentional.

“Call it my Naruto-sense.” Iruka chuckles, rinsing and draining the measured-out rice. “I can always tell when you get within ten yards of the village.”

Naruto snorts but doesn’t protest and they end up having a very nice late breakfast together. Naruto finishes his account of the mission – successful, the only injury Sai’s and only at the hands of Sakura who they were beginning to think he provoked intentionally as a roundabout attempt at humor – and asks after the kid in Iruka’s class who came down with flu just before he left. Iruka fills him in on village gossip from the mission desk and they debate the odds of Konohamaru’s entire genin squad making Chunin at once.

Iruka tries not to dwell on the fact that Naruto had said _special friend_ instead of _boyfriend_ or _girlfriend_. He knows Naruto doesn’t put enough thought into his words to read into it. But still, an overwhelming question keeps pressing on the tip of his tongue as they make amiable chatter. He should say something. He _needs_ to say something. For Kakashi’s sake, as well as Naruto’s, and probably even his own.

And Iruka _wants_ to say something. He doesn’t like keeping secrets from anyone if it can be helped, but from Naruto in particular. Naruto would feel just as betrayed as Kakashi if he found out on accident or if someone else told him. Besides, Naruto has never been anything but warm and accepting and kind; hesitating to tell him almost feels like not truly _believing_ in him which is the highest betrayal of all.

Still, the words get caught in his throat every time. There’s no easy transition, no phrase that doesn’t feel forced or unnatural. No perfect set up to lead to the perfect confession.

 _Hey, you know I’m gay, right?_ Was too casual.

 _Me and Kakashi are sleeping together. Have been for a while. I think it’s technically the longest relationship of my life._ Was too much information and Iruka doesn’t want to drop two bombs – I’m gay; I’m boning your other sensei – at once.

 _Hypothetically speaking, how do you feel about homosexuality?_ Was too leading even though Naruto would absolutely not get the hint. It was also, coincidentally, the question that gave Iruka the most anxiety when he tried to voice it. He decides, after that, not to dwell on the _Naruto_ of it all and focus on patching things up with Kakashi first.

Which will buy him at least a week to figure out what to say since Kakashi’s currently on a mission. It should be a comfort.

But he and Naruto part ways for the day after agreeing to put the dishes off until dinner time and Iruka closes his eyes only to see cold, steel-grey eyes stare impassively back at him. His heart beats a steady tattoo of _coward, coward, coward_ against his sternum.

“We are not avoiding each other for another two years.” Iruka announces before settling down heavily on the ground, his back against the sturdy, impossibly wide trunk of a tree in the heart of the Forest of Death. His voice doesn’t carry very far in the heavy undergrowth, but he trusts Kakashi’s sensitive ears and fine chakra sensing to do the rest.

Kakashi could be incredibly hard to find when he chose to be. This wasn’t new information, but Iruka had been surprised by his persistence. The jounin had returned after six days away, but it was going on three weeks since they last saw each other and Iruka’s regret was now tempered with low-burning irritation. Hiding out in the Forrest of Death was for moody teenagers, not adults with busy lives to attend to.

There’s a puff of air and then Kakashi is sprawled on a tree root ten feet above Iruka’s head. The literal high road. Iruka rolls his eyes and doesn’t feel bad because Kakashi’s still got his nose buried between the bright orange cover of his book even as he says, “We could resolve to avoid each other forever.”

“Oh, give me a break!” Iruka snaps. If they’d had this conversation two weeks ago, he would have been penitent. One week ago, contrite. Hell, two _days_ ago he could have mustered up vaguely apologetic. Now he’s going to have to push the midterm exam to next week because he hasn’t had time to finish writing it because he’s been chasing a man-child all over the city and he’s sick of feeling punished for his insecurities. “How many people have _you_ told?”

“No one.” Kakashi admits freely and Iruka’s about to open his mouth and call him a hypocrite, when the book snaps shut and he adds, “But that’s because I don’t tell anyone about my personal life, ever, at all. For my protection and yours. You _do_ tell people things.”

“I don’t tell everything to everyone.” Iruka points out. He doesn’t wince at the raw honesty behind Kakashi’s words, but it’s a near thing.

“You tell Naruto everything.”

Iruka scoffs. Kakashi sits up straight and glares down at him. “You told him you once mistimed a glitter bomb and got taken into T&I by an ANBU squad when you were fourteen. You told him you failed the chunin exams twice. You told him you were the one who told Tsunade to reacquisition his old apartment while he was away training. Name one thing Naruto doesn’t already know about you besides-”

“He doesn’t know I’m _gay_.”

The words taste bitter as they leave his mouth. They hang in the moss-deadened air between the two of them, a painful and hard-won confession. Kakashi blinks. Shifts a little on the tree root. A tiny bit of the ire in his gaze gives way to confusion.

“That’s not true.” A statement, bordering on a question.

“Yes, it is.” Iruka glares up at him. He hates being called a liar. “I haven’t told him, so he doesn’t _know_.”

“But everyone knows.” Kakashi’s voice is slowly losing its edge, his eyebrows furrowing instead of raising. “You’re _out_. I knew before I ever met you. Why wouldn’t Naruto know?”

“People know.” Iruka says, pulling his knees towards his chest to defend his vulnerable parts since he’s determined not to run away from the conversation.

It isn’t Kakashi’s fault he doesn’t know the whole story, Iruka reminds himself. Kakashi was jounin, if not ANBU, when it happened. By the time the gossip got that high up the only news would have been that one of the new genin was _gaaaay_. He wouldn’t have heard about the Yamanaka boy or the bruise Iruka had been forced to wear for a week, too scared to ask a medical nin to waste time fixing it. He wouldn’t know about his jounin-sensei sitting him down and talking to him about _caution_ and _discretion_.

“But I don’t make a habit of talking about it. Naruto doesn’t look _underneath_ the way you do. Not outside the battlefield. I didn’t tell him, so he doesn’t know.”

“Why not?” Kakashi demands, but now he drops down to ground level, crouching in Iruka’s view. “It’s not feudal times. People don’t really care about that stuff anymore. Naruto definitely doesn’t.”

Iruka bites back another scoff, but can’t keep all the bitterness from his tone when he says, “People might not care about that stuff to _you_ , but the rest of us mere mortals who don’t quite conform aren’t immune to repercussions.”

“What does that mean?” The mask still covers the lower half of his face, but Iruka can perfectly picture the frown pinching his lips now. He tries not to roll his eyes again.

“You made jounin before most people make _genin_.” Iruka reminds him, “You’re the elite of Konoha’s elite. A certain number of… quirks can be excused because of how much you contribute to the village. They’re expected, even.”

“It’s not a quirk.” Kakashi says, a hint of something dark and angry in his eyes.

“I know that.” Iruka does roll his eyes this time. “But that’s how people who don’t like it will justify it. I’m not elite. I’m not special. When I was figuring all of this out, I didn’t even have a family to help me work through it. I was vulnerable.” Iruka hates the way it feels to parrot his old sensei’s words at someone else – someone who hasn’t experienced it – but he does it anyway because it’s the only way he knows how to make him understand. “I learned caution and discretion very early on.”

The crouch Kakashi’s been maintaining since coming down to earth collapses as he folds his legs to sit properly. But the tension in his shoulders remains and the darkness in Kakashi’s gaze is no longer directed at Iruka when he asks, “Who?”

“I’m not naming names.” Iruka shakes his head and watches Kakashi clock the plural by the deepening of his frown. He meets the steel gaze with force when he continues. “Those were my fights and I dealt with them on my own. You don’t get to drag them up now just cause you’re mad.”

Kakashi huffs and Iruka suspects he’s pouting under the mask, but he also forcibly relaxes his body so Iruka does the same. Stretching out his tense legs feels like easing a elastic out of his hair after a long day at the academy. The relief is instantaneous. It feels even better when Kakashi absently reaches out and wraps a hand around his ankle, a warm and friendly pressure after weeks of absence.

It’s a very innocuous gesture, no real intent behind it. But Iruka’s in reach and Kakashi is touching him. Which means he hasn’t totally messed this up. He watches Kakashi finish processing this new, slightly less hospitable view of the world, and then finally shakes his head.

“But it’s _Naruto_.” He says, looking up into Iruka’s warm, brown eyes with genuine worry, “You can’t really think that after everything you’ve done for him… After everything…”

Iruka smiles and it’s genuinely fond but tinged with all the sad, anxious thoughts he’s been harboring since Naruto first arrived home from training. “I know he wouldn’t.” Iruka confesses and shrugs when Kakashi’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “I never got to tell my family about me. I’ll never know if they would have supported me or not, although I like to think they would. Naruto’s the closest thing to family I have left. If I’m wrong, I literally do not know what I’ll do, but....”

The words choke off briefly. There’s a bubble swelling in his throat and his eyes feel hot, but Iruka keeps smiling his sad smile and doesn’t let the tears fall. With a shake of his head, he simply repeats, “He’s all the family I have left.”

The warmth of Kakashi’s hand leave his ankle for half a second, just long enough for Iruka to panic that this is the end of everything. Then lean, strong arms are pulling him into a too-tight embrace.

The angle is awkward. Iruka’s face is pressed into Kakashi’s shoulder, the stiff edge of his flak jacket an uncomfortable friction against his cheek. His spine twists as Kakashi lines up beside him so they’re both not quite leaning on the tree trunk, legs pressed together. Iruka wraps his arms around Kakashi’s firm torso and lets a handful of tears fall into the stiff fabric. He hopes he’s not disrespecting his mother’s memory when he thinks this is the best hug of his life.

“I’m sorry.” He says when he swallows down the last of his tears. “I’m sorry this hurt you. I want to tell Naruto; I really, really do. I just… I’m scared.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever really understand, but I can’t be mad that you’re protecting your most important bonds.” Kakashi answers, his chest rumbling low and soft against Iruka’s ear. “I wish you didn’t feel so alone in this. I wish I could make it easier. But, Iruka…” His hands – warm, even covered by thick gloves – rub circles on the Iruka’s shoulders, “If Naruto finds out before you tell him, he’ll feel like I did. And he really won’t understand.”

“I know.” Iruka nods, slowly pulling away and wiping his face with his sleeve. Kakashi lets him go, but keeps a warm, steady hand on his shoulders, eyes alert and attentive. “But every time I try to tell him, the words just won’t come.”

“Okay.” Kakashi says once, then his hand grips on Iruka’s shoulder tightly and he repeats it with more finality. “ _Okay_. So, let’s not worry so much about the words then.”

“What?” Iruka asks, blinking out his confusion. Kakashi has a slightly manic gleam in his eye, the hand on his shoulder only tightening as he turns so they’re face-to-face once more.

“Hear me out…”

“I don’t know about this…”

They’re hanging a little ways back from the group. Naruto, Sakura, Sai and Yamato all walk ahead, still talking and laughing as they make their way home from Ichiraku. Two years ago and they all would have split up the moment they left the stand. These days they manage to live conveniently in the same direction. Sai and Sakura in the spartan, but very affordable, Jounin apartment complex, just off the main road. Kakashi in a barely-less-spartan apartment complex half a block off the main road in the opposite direction. Naruto and Iruka in a more residential area two blocks past that. Yamato in a proper house with a wooden porch that overlooks a garden that has turned many a Yamanaka’s face green with envy.

Walks home on the rare occasion that everyone is in town – minus, almost always, Team Seven's wayward shadow – tend to be lingering. The company pleasant and the conversation easy. And today is no exception. Except that Kakashi has threaded their hands together and when Iruka doesn’t walk in a perfectly straight line, their shoulders bump.

So far only Yamato and Sai have noticed, but mercifully have not commented. Or at least, Sai had opened his mouth to say something – and with Sai, it really could have been anything – but Yamato had slung an arm across his shoulders and very loudly asked how far he had progressed on that mural over the new community building.

Now they’re nearing the crossroads where Sai, Sakura, and Kakashi normally split off and Iruka’s dread is growing. Kakashi squeezes his hand lightly and leans in to murmur, “Sensei, you’ve had four years to come up with the perfect words. Where has that gotten you?”

Iruka huffs, knocking their shoulders together and dodging the pointed gaze directed his way. He mutters, “…nowhere.”

“Exactly!” Kakashi’s eyes crinkle into crescents over the edge of his mask, “We’re going to rip those words off like one of Sakura’s super-adhesive band aids. If all goes perfectly, you get to come home with me. In the unlikely event it all goes to shit, well, at least you still get to go home with me.”

Iruka glares playfully up at him and is about to remark that Kakashi is _awfully certain_ going to his place should be considered a reward, but they’re practically bumping into the rest of the group as they approach the inevitable crossroad. Instead of teasing, Iruka swallows and squeezes Kakashi’s hand as tightly as he can to resist the impulse to jump away.

Sakura clocks their joined hands the instant she turns around. And then her gaze skitters away, the pink high on her cheeks and a smug smile just barely repressed on her lips. Iruka wonders if he’s been less subtle than he thinks or if Sakura has taken up her mentor’s habit of betting on long shots.

Naruto’s gaze seems to slip over their joined hands like oil slides over water and Iruka’s palms start to sweat, already envisioning the worst possible reason for that.

“Hey, Sensei, let’s get going!” Naruto says, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of their shared apartment. “The tea’s not going to brew itself!”

There are words Iruka is supposed to say. He knows them. They echo in his head and then they stick in his throat and there’s a terrible moment where Iruka says nothing at all, the same blind panic from weeks ago almost overtaking him.

“Maa, Naruto, you’re going to need to brew your own tea tonight.” Kakashi says effortlessly, bumping their shoulders together once more and Iruka’s never been more grateful to feel the slight sting of nails digging into his knuckles before his grip loosens. “Iruka’s staying over at my place.”

There is a single moment of horrible silence. In that moment three pairs of eyes flicker between the joined hands of Kakashi and Iruka and the steadily reddening face and watering eyes of Naruto.

“Huh!?” Naruto asks, eyes widening in shock and horror. He levels his gaze on Iruka, who has to hold back a whole-body flinch. “Please say it’s not true! Please, Iruka-sensei, I’m begging you!”

Iruka _does_ flinch then. He feels Kakashi’s hand tighten around his, trying to offer support, but it’s not enough. Naruto’s going to reject him. Naruto’s going to _hate_ him. This is the end of the careful, beautiful life he’s built for himself and the beginning of something else…

“…I know Kakashi-sensei isn’t as lazy as he wants people to think but he’s still a _pervert!_ I’ve ready Jiraiya-sensei’s books, ya know!? They’re super messed up! I’ll set you up with anyone – _anyone_ else in the village, just not Kakashi-sensei, _please!_ I think Izumo-san is gay and he’s always on time for his gate shifts. I’ll set you up with him! _Please_ , Iruka-sensei, I’m begging you!”

Sakura steps in then, boxing Naruto’s ears with a low growl, “Naruto, you idiot! Izumo is dating Kotets; everyone knows that! How can you be so dense!?”

“And if Kakashi-taicho hasn’t corrupted Iruka-sensei after all this time, it seems unlikely he would now.” Sai observes in his most placid, generic tone. Naruto and Sakura both turn on him.

“ _HUH!”_ Naruto screeches.

“What do you mean!?” Sakura demands, grabbing Sai’s collar with the hand not currently dragging down Naruto’s ear.

“I thought it was obvious.” Sai raises his hand in surrender, an undecipherable smile on his face. “They’ve been sleeping together for as long as I’ve known them.”

The bickering continues and the violence starts to escalate, but Iruka isn’t listening anymore. Relief is flooding his system, the adrenaline and epinephrine of a hard-won battle courses through his body. Naruto knows and Naruto doesn’t care. His family supports him, believes in him, doesn’t require him to be anything but what he is. He had known, intellectually, how tense the whole situation had made him.

But he doesn’t _really_ know until all that tension drains out of his body at once the moment Yamato throws them a rye smile and walks off, while Kakashi tugs his hand and leads him away from the scene currently brewing at the crossroad.

They’re almost to the entrance of Kakashi’s apartment complex when Iruka’s euphoria finally mellows out enough for him to squeeze Kakashi’s fingers and say, “I can’t believe that’s all it took! He’s really just _Naruto_ through and through.”

“Uh-huh,” Kakashi intones, digging for a key in his pocket and sounding distinctly unimpressed. “Must be nice.”

“What’s wrong?” Iruka asks, suddenly aware of Kakashi’s sullen mood.

Beneath the mask, Kakashi pouts and then leans against Iruka’s shoulder as he forces the door open. “He still thinks I’m a pervert! After all these years, he doesn’t know I read porn in public just to scare people off.”

Iruka’s chuckle starts low in his belly then spreads quickly through his torso and up into his shoulders. He’s still shaking with it as they pull off their sandals in the apartment’s entryway. He gets it under control long enough to wrap his arms around Kakashi’s neck and say with a mischievous smile, “I meant what I said before. Naruto doesn’t look underneath the underneath unless he thinks he has to. If you don’t him to think you’re a lazy pervert, you’re going to have to explain it to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end!
> 
> This started with the mental image of Kakashi and Iruka having a poorly thought-out hookup and, since they're both dorks but in different ways, dealing with the fallout terribly and comedically. The bit about Iruka being forced into officially inviting Naruto to stay with him came later, but delighted me.
> 
> I'm sure it's not related, but I've recently been considering coming out to my immediate family. When I pictured Naruto finding out about Kakashi & Iruka being together, I started thinking of all the reasons that might be difficult for someone like Iruka who once had a support network, lost it, and had to rebuild from scratch. Even though Naruto is the most pure-hearted character in existence and I didn't imagine any version of this story where he wasn't totally and enthusiastically on board with Iruka's sexuality, it was interesting to explore Iruka's insecurities. I am absolutely, 100% not projecting onto this fictional character, literally how dare you think that. Someone hug me for not reason.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi asks a very important question in such a roundabout way, he accidentally avoids it all together.

Instinct as much as habit makes Kakashi enter the apartment silently, his feet light on the wooden boards, the door moving on well-oiled hinges. It was good practice for out in the field and it was always funny to sneak up on people. Iruka doesn’t even look up from the kotatsu and Kakashi toes off his shoes with a bit of smug pride.

“Welcome home.”

Ah, well. Of course, Iruka didn’t need to look up to know he was there. He wasn’t a sensor-type, but he had lots of practice tracking the movements of clumsy pre-genin with weak chakra signatures. Kakashi must be a signal flare in his periphery. When he shrugs out of his flak jacket and hangs it beside Iruka’s on the coat rack, he’s still proud but it’s directed outward instead of in.

The soft greeting fills Kakashi’s chest cavity with a warm mix of feelings he has still has trouble articulating even though at this point they have exchanged all the usual, mundane declarations of a healthy relationship. So, he raises two fingers in a lazy salute and just says “Thanks.” before slouching his way to Iruka’s bathroom.

In the shower, Kakashi scrubs off dust from the road and the lingering, heightened paranoia he always feels when he’s outside the village. Not that he _isn’t_ paranoid inside the village, but many people seemed to be under the impression it was unhealthy to be on a constant hair trigger, ready to attack or defend in a moment’s notice. So, Kakashi was working on that.

He stops reading danger into every sound that reaches his ears and starts accepting it as gentle, ambient noise. The neighbor upstairs has an unusually heavy tread, favoring their left side. Probably injured recently. The kettle whistles which means Iruka’s on his third cup of tea for the day. A dog barks outside, a hunter’s bray that suggests bad news for a squirrel.

Kakashi files all of this information in his head under the label _home_ and by the time he’s pulling on a plain black sleeveless shirt, clean uniform pants, and a pair of socks (Iruka’s because he splurges on nice socks made with real wool that are much better than any of his own, synthetic variety), he feels almost relaxed.

The tension doesn’t completely leave his body, however, until he slides into place beside Iruka at the kotatsu, draping over his shoulders like a cat over a space heater. With one arm across his boyfriend’s broad back and his head resting on his shoulder, Kakashi lets out a nearly silent, but relieved sigh. It’s good to be home.

“Long mission?” There’s a hint of teasing in Iruka’s voice – he always laughs at what he calls Kakashi’s ‘dramatics’ these days – but Kakashi doesn’t take the bait.

“Not really.” He admits because it’s true. He’d been ‘on-loan’ to Iron Country, working with a team that was half Konoha in, half Iron samurai. It had been weird. But good-weird and not particularly taxing. Kakashi wraps his free hand around the mug of tea Iruka had prepared for him – green tea for Kakashi, black tea with a splash of milk for Iruka – and adds, “Long debriefing, though.”

“Yeah?” Iruka asks, finally glancing up from his own work.

“Yeah.” Kakashi affirms without elaborating. He drops his gaze to the paperwork on the kotatsu and asks, “I thought you weren’t going to make changes to the first section of your lesson plans this year. You said something about reaching ‘perfection’ last year.”

Iruka’s annoyed frown morphs into a slightly embarrassed scowl. “It _was_ perfect. For that cohort. My class this year has a lot more civilian kids than usual. I’m building in more time for the basics. I want them working from good foundations.”

“The clan kids won’t get antsy?” Kakashi asks, genuinely curious. He’d always been too advanced for his age and impatient with anyone he perceived to be holding him back. If he thought a teacher was going deliberately slow he would have rioted at that age.

“Usually clan kids help the civilian kids out in the first section through osmosis. By being good examples in class and showing off in their free time. I’m going to try and make that intentional.” Iruka explains, his annoyance at Kakashi’s avoidance giving way to his enthusiasm for a shiny new idea. “The expectation will be that kids with more experience will mentor their peers which will hopefully get them to think about _why_ certain techniques are important and not just how to use them. It’s one thing to learn how to do something and another thing entirely to know how to explain it.”

Iruka gets a particular gleam in his eye when he’s certain he’s landed on a perfect solution. Kakashi wishes he got to see it more often. Looking at it out of the corner of his eye, he thinks it feels a little like lying a sunbeam. Still, Kakashi frowns and reads over the modified lesson plan again, “You’re not worried that will cause some kind of hierarchy? Clan kids versus civilian kids?”

“It’s a risk.” Iruka admits with a shrug. “But there’s a risk of that every year. By the second section, we’re usually covering stuff that’s new to all of the students so things naturally even out. Sort of like how you enjoy distracting me for a while, but you always get around to telling me what’s bothering you.”

The challenge is issued with a smile, but Kakashi knows he’s pushing his luck. He’d introduced the topic, avoiding it further will only make Iruka mad at him. With another unvoiced sigh, Kakashi leans his head back on Iruka’s shoulder and says, “She wants to pass the hat.”

“She’s wanted that for a year.” Iruka says, brow furrowing. “What’s changed?”

“Me. I think.”

This admission gets Kakashi jostled from his comfortable spot against Iruka’s side so the other man can look at him straight on. “What do you mean?”

“Lately, I’ve been thinking there’s things I could do more effectively if I had an office.”

“Such as?” Iruka stays pulled away and Kakashi huffs, putting his hands on the ground behind him to take the weight off his shoulders.

“We talked about raising the graduation age a few weeks ago.” He says, eyes focused on the lesson plan in front of him. Iruka nods, recalling the conversation clearly even though it had felt fanciful at the time. “We debated the merits of adding another level before genin. Giving even less gifted kids more advanced chakra training in the hopes that they might develop the kinds of finer sensory skills we’ll need in times of peace instead of the raw potential required by constant war. Formerly-Sharingan Kakashi can’t make those kinds of proposals to the council, much less the Daimyo. The Rokudaime could.”

Iruka releases a soft burst of air. “Wow.”

“I know.” Kakashi scoffs, “I’m getting terribly egotistical in my old age.”

“No.” Iruka shakes his head, bumping their shoulders together. “I mean _wow_. We’ve really entered an era of peace, haven’t we? Even Hatake Kakashi has to come up with a new way to be relevant. What’ll I do in five years when we’re no longer training twelve-year-olds to kill?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Kakashi mock-pouts, “You’ll be training slightly older students to be paranoid lunatics, constantly surveilling the village for hidden threats.” This earns him an honest chuckle from Iruka, but he schools his expression after that settles. “They’ll want me to move into the Hokage Residence.”

“Of course, they will.” Iruka affirms like this is nothing. “Times of lasting peace require diplomacy which means hosting visiting dignitaries and having things like _banquets_. You can’t do that from the jounin barracks.”

“But the Residence is so… _much_.” Kakashi truly pouts this time, throwing a hand out to emphasize the _bigness_ of it all. “There’s a _staff_. What’s the good of all that if I don’t know how to use it?”

Iruka taps his pen against his bottom lip and considers the problem. “I suppose you could refurbish the Hatake compound. It’s big and traditional enough to be respectable, but not so big you’d need a large staff to take care of it. A groundskeeper and a housekeeper would probably do. You could propose a new use for the Residence to pacify the Council. Call it a community center or something.”

Briefly, Kakashi forgets that he’s supposed to be cool or aloof, shooting up to throw his arms around Iruka, hope swelling in his chest. “We can remodel it into a school! To house all of our not-yet-Genin, Academy graduates! Iruka, you are truly brilliant.”

“Ah, I think you came up with most of that on your own.” Iruka stutters, patting Kakashi’s stiff hair in an attempt to participate in the firm embrace. “But I’m glad I could help you.”

Kakashi is feeling, admittedly, a little frustrated that Iruka never seems to pick up on his use of _we_. He’s about to finally snap and insist Iruka take credit for all of his brilliant ideas when there’s a familiar rattle against the lock.

Both highly trained shinobi freeze for half a second before descending into giggles.

“T-minus thirty to Naruto.” Iruka warns.

“When is he going to figure out which key is which?” Kakashi sighs. “I thought Sakura painted them different colors for him.”

“She did.” Iruka wheezes, leaning into Kakashi’s loosened embrace. “But he keeps forgetting which color is for what door.”

They’re still laughing when Naruto finally enters. They miss whatever he says as he tugs his shoes off and makes his way to the other side of the table before folding his legs beneath him and glaring at his smitten former teachers.

“Oh, geez,” Naruto scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the spread of paperwork before Iruka and the lazy curl of Kakashi’s arm over his shoulder. “I can’t believe I was worried you’d turn Iruka-sensei into a pervert. He just made _you_ boring.”

“Maa, Naruto, my sweet, innocent student. You wound me!” Kakashi protests, tightening his hold on Iruka until he blushes. “A decent corruption takes time and focus!”

“Kakashi!”

“Ick!”

Both protests erupt at once and Kakashi can only chuckle, pressing a kiss to the sensei’s temple. Despite the protest, Naruto doesn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he pulls out a clean mission report and starts recounting the details as he writes. His retellings still get sprinkled with embellishment, but now those flourishes tend to highlight his friends and downplay his own contributions. The stories themselves have a greater ring of truth overall than they did when he was younger.

The fact that he doesn’t seem to mind sharing them with Kakashi as easily as with Iruka is more heartwarming than Kakashi thinks it ought to be.

“So, anyway, now Tenten’s got three of the five Legendary Weapons. I didn’t notice her really before because her teammates were so… _much_ , but Tenten’s kind of a badass.”

Kakashi blinks his focus back to the room instead of his own musings, surprised to be offered such a clean segue into something that had been on his mind for a while.

“Maa, she is an exceptional young lady.” Kakashi nods and ignores Iruka’s quirked eyebrow. “She mentioned Housin-san wants her to take over his smith when he retires. That’s a lot of responsibility for someone so young, but I think she’s up to the task.”

“When did you talk to Tenten?” Naruto asks, head tilted curiously. “She doesn’t take S-ranked missions much.”

Kakashi shrugs and continues ignoring the side-eyed looks Iruka is throwing at him. “I commissioned something from her. I admit I didn’t know what to expect when I went in, but as I said she proved to be exceptional.”

“A specialty weapon?” Naruto frowns, “Aren’t a thousand Justus enough? You need a new weapon?”

“Not particularly.” Kakashi tightens his hold on Iruka infinitesimally, a silent _watch this_. “It was actually meant to be a gift for you.”

“A gift!?” Naruto lights up briefly, then glares in disapproval. It is… unsettlingly close to a look Iruka gives him when he’s suspicious of his intentions. “My birthday was two months ago, Kakashi-sensei. That’s late even by your standards.”

“Well,” Kakashi coughs, not rising to the bait and making up an excuse, but it’s a near thing. He is _trying_ to tell the truth for once. “I had originally intended for it to be a promotion gift. But you don’t seem to be in any hurry to take the jounin exam despite what you keep telling Tsunade-sama when you ask for more challenging missions.”

The brilliant red Naruto turns is worth the sharp elbow Iruka presses into his side.

“I just wanna be sure I’m ready, ya know?” Naruto scratches the back of his head, still flushed forehead to chin. “It’d be embarrassing to save the world or whatever and then fail a stupid exam. Besides,” His scowl melts away as he beams at Iruka. “There’s nothin’ wrong with being a chunin! Chunin do lots of important jobs in the village even if they aren’t allowed to take S-ranks. Isn’t that right, Iruka-sensei?”

“I – you! Mmhmm!” Coming from anyone else it could have been called brown-nosing. Or worse, a veiled insult. Coming from Naruto, Iruka has to duck his head into his own paperwork to hide a sheen of tears. “That’s right, Naruto.”

Kakashi sighs. His boys are certainly dramatic, if he doesn’t act quickly, they’ll ruin the cozy, domestic mood he’s been curating for the last hour or so. He squeezes Iruka’s shoulder one more time and then gets up to retrieve something from his flak vest. “I suppose I can’t argue with that. Although I think making your beloved sensei cry counts as playing dirty. Here. Happy late birthday. Or early promotion. Whichever comes first. Second. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” Naruto clarifies, but doesn’t hesitate to reach across the table and rip open the fist-sized brown paper wrapped package Kakashi drops in the center of it. The suspense only lasts a minute. Naruto examines the object. “This is… a really weird shuriken, Kakashi-sensei.”

“Naruto, don’t be rude!” Iruka snaps out of habit. But even his tone is more perplexed than annoyed.

Kakashi chuckles, settling back against his hands again and thinking of his own reaction decades earlier.

The shuriken is undoubtedly odd. Instead of smooth, straight lines and perfectly sharpened points, the end of each peak curves back slightly, creating a pinwheel effect when thrown. It will tend to pull right and down when thrown straight. Using it properly would take additional training beyond a typical shuriken. The effort required would be wasted to learn to throw just one weapon.

Kakashi gets his quiet laughter under control and starts his story.

“When I was promoted to Chunin my genin squad gave me gifts, as is traditional. I thought it was a waste at the time because I was a real asshole back then. The one that really got under my skin, though, came from my jounin-sensei.”

“Your- you mean my-?”

“That’s right, Naruto.” Kakashi crinkles his eye in a small smile of acknowledgement. “Your father gave me the strangest kunai I’d ever seen. The balance was off, and the handle was all wrong. I thought it was pointless. I put it in the bottom of my weapons pouch and forgot all about it. Until the day I’d used up all my weapons except one. The strange kunai. In a moment of desperation, I threw it at the enemy.”

He pauses for dramatic effect and Naruto obligingly leans in, eyes wide and as blue as the sky outside. “And? What happened!?”

“I missed.” Kakashi teases before getting more serious. “Minato-sensei beat it to the enemy. Pummeled him into the ground while my poorly thrown kunai impaled a tree behind them both. He’d attached a seal to it. When I threw it, he was alerted, and he knew I was in danger because I would never have thrown that kunai except as an absolute last resort.”

“Wow.” Naruto breathes, a wistful smile on his face as his elbows rest on the table’s surface. “My dad was really smart, wasn’t he? You were such a brat you never would have thrown it if you knew it was a cry for help.”

Kakashi bristles at the accusation, but Iruka’s chuckling beside him and he has to admit it’s true. “Maa, I guess you’re right. He was a pretty smart guy. And you’re a different kind of brat than me, so I figure it’s better that you know what this one’s for. I’m not the Yellow Flash of Konoha. I can’t appear in an instant if you need me. But if you’re ever that desperate, if you can’t find a way out, you throw that shuriken and we’ll know you need us.”

“We?” Naruto asks and Kakashi feels Iruka sit up straighter beside him.

“We.” Kakashi repeats. “Iruka and I will get a burst of your chakra. We’ll come find you, wherever you are.”

“Kakashi-sensei…” Naruto says, big tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me!”

“I’ve taken deadly hits for you.” Kakashi points out, dryly unwilling to let his previous sacrifices go unacknowledged.

“The. _Nicest_.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Kakashi makes a shooing gesture with his hand. “Now hurry up and take the exam already; I’m sick of having to run B-ranks just to have you on my team.”

“I will!” Naruto promises with a grin, the shuriken gripped tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “Uh, just one question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Why couldn’t you just give me my dad’s kunai?”

“I did.” Kakashi meets Naruto and Iruka’s confused looks with a dodge. “Well, I mean, I gave you most of it. It had sentimental value to me, too, you know. And there was only one way we could figure out how to make it send a signal without Yondaime-sama’s original seal and that was by putting a the responsive chakra into another object. Something meant to be held at all times by the owner.”

“Kakashi…” Iruka’s voice is a question and a warning at his side but Kakashi just keeps grinning.

“Huh?” Naruto says confusion swimming in his eyes. “What do you mean? What kind of object is meant to be held at all times? I _hate_ it when you speak in riddles, sensei.”

“All I’m trying to say is, maybe wait a little while before getting into a dire enough situation to use it.”

“Hey, why would he have to wait!?” Iruka demands, poking Kakashi hard in the side. “You can’t say something like that and then not follow through!”

“Follow through on _what_!?”

“Maa, sensei,” Kakashi pouts, thinking of the black velvet box he had deliberately left in his flak vest. “When talking about refurbishing the Hatake compound I said _we_ and you said _you_. Clearly, we’re not on the same page yet.”

“But I didn’t – I just didn’t want to be presumptuous!” Iruka splutters, hands gesticulating wildly. “We’ve _talked about this!_ You know I want – I mean, I’ve made it very clear that I’m-”

“Maybe on a day you’re feeling more inclusive.” Kakashi sighs as dramatically as he can while dodging lightly swung fists and ignoring Naruto’s confused sounds. “You know what? I forgot I’m supposed to report into the hospital after all A-ranked missions now. I had better do that.”

Kakashi’s out the window in an instant – he may not be the Yellow Flash, but he _was_ his student – and he grins as Iruka’s head appears through it a second later, his bellow cutting through the peaceful afternoon.

”DON’T THINK HOSPITALIZING YOURSELF GETS YOU OUT OF PROPOSING PROPERLY, HATAKE! AND – AND – AND _I’M KEEPING MY NAME!_ ”

Kakashi crosses the rooves in record time, arriving at the hospital only four hours after his scheduled appointment. An personal best report time. If he has to wait inside the door for another fifteen minutes to get his furious blush under control, well. Some things are meant to be kept private.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bonus chapter! I got the idea a day ago and I am posting it with minimal editing. Please enjoy some wholesome content between the NinjaDads and their delightfully obtuse son with a good dose of Tenten Stan-ing in the middle.


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